Page 100 of Deadly Maiden

I come, writhing onto his mouth, muscles clamped, my back stiff, my thighs rigid, as I make a long almost soundless moan.

I’m still bent-kneed and pressed limp against the wall, shuddering through the last spasms of the climax when he says, “Again.”

When I protest, he chuckles and lets me sag and slide my back down the wall until I’m sitting next to him, then he drags me outward with both hands on my ass, and he fastens his mouth over my clit.

It’s too much, and I squeal and bat at him until he pins my hands to my stomach.

“Stay still. You’re coming for me, or else.” He stares at me, being mean but oh so sexy, leaning on me enough that I can’t get away. Then he searches between my legs, probes my slit, and pushes three huge fingers inside me while I gape at him.

After a fourth is wormed into me, he slowly, sedately, fucks me to oblivion with them.

“My Inner Dragon, or Inner Dick as I call him, says hi, Miss Wyntre. His idea to do all this.”

He bites me, leaving marks, sucks on my breasts until my nipples are red and swollen, turns me on again until I’m begging for more.

Then…then he shushes me with a hand clamped over my mouth and uses his own mouth to make me orgasm again.

By the end, I’m shaking and covered in Rorsyd’s marks, probably bruised on my inner thighs, and I’m sure I’ve melted into a puddle on the floor. He joins me, lying beside me as I stare up at the ceiling, then he smiles and gently kisses me.

“Too much?” He thumbs my mouth, and I capture the tip as he slides it past. Fleetingly I suck on it, which makes him smile.

“Oh fuck no.” I suck in air, catching my breath. “Absolutely was good.” I gulp. “This Inner Dragon gets a big fat star of Wyntre approval.”

“Ten minutes’ rest only, then we clean up, get a quick bite, and ride out of town.”

I groan and turn to snuggle into his warm, solid chest. “You were a monster, but thank you. Also, my legs may not work anymore.”

He laughs. “That was nothing. Wait until tonight.”

Blossom and Snake-eyes are happy to see us again, dancing on their hooves, and we ride out the gate without a hitch to where we scouted yesterday. This small green valley with side ridges overflowing with purple blossoms is quiet and off the trail. We tether the horses at a safe distance then I wait, heart in mouth, while Rorsyd shakes out his shoulders, inhales, and begins to shift.

In this moment, everything might shatter.

What if he’s wrong, and he cannot quite shift?

What if this hurts him?

After all, I’ve been messing about with his flesh and blood, using instinct not learning, using necromancy on a dragonshifter when he has not given me permission to do so.

He has stripped naked this time, tucked his clothes in the one rucksack we brought. It makes for an awesome spectacle, seeing this male hunk of muscle with a tussled head of hair so red it might itself be flame, ready himself to become something else entirely different.

I’m wishing hard, whispering the words. “Dragon. Dragon. Dragon…”

When the scales flutter to life and cement into place across him, color blitzes over his body as he shimmies into a larger mass occupying space that was, only moments ago, empty of anything but air.

Rorsyd becomes Dragon, once more.

“Yesss.” I’m grinning as I run to him, watching the last details solidify. All the scales, the tail, the folded wings, the giant claws, the fangs, the wickedly slanted eyes. Fire and scale and more muscle than a battalion of enforcers, all in one being.

I remember the drill and climb up in front of his leg, swinging my legs over, seating myself. I grip that tendril, then he lumbers over and grabs the rucksack and a bundle of kindling we prepared.

“Ready for flight, Miss Wyntre?” he booms.

“Yes!”

He takes a run-off, a few huge steps, the wings unfold and stretch, his neck lifts skyward, and we are off the ground. Seconds later, we’re swooping along closer to ground level than I recall.

Rorsyd is following the valley. The horses are way behind us, where the launch and shifting wouldn’t frighten them. After a mile or so, he gains altitude until the air grows cooler. I’m ready, though, dressed in thick, insulated pants and a thick shirt, a proper jacket with a hood, and a pair of gloves I pull from my pocket.

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